by K. R. Smith
Scent
K.R. Smith
Published: 2010
Tag(s): "sci fi and fantasy" "paranormal romance" "Native Alaskan" "Alaska Range" werewolves love erotica adult Alaska
Chapter 1
New Chapter
~ Scent ~
By K.R. Smith
Sample Edition, License Notes
Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This sample may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the sample remains in its complete original form. 'Scent' is protected by Australian Copyright Law 1968. If you enjoyed this free sample, please visit the author's website to purchase the ebook. Thank you for your support.
‘Scent’ copyright K.R. Smith 2010
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http://onaya3.blogspot.com/
Cover graphics by Isabel de Sequera, copyright 2010
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Cover photo taken by Nina Ackerman and Leesa Montague, copyright 2007
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This book is available at most online retailers.
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“Men do not roar. Women roar. Then they hurl heavy objects. And claw at you.”
— “What does the man do?”
“He reads love poetry. He ducks a lot.”
(Worf and Wesley on Klingon mating rituals Star Trek: The Next Generation)
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~ 1 ~
1st September 2084
Man, this Iggy Pop album is awesome! Our heads bopped along to the tune of ‘Lust For Life’ in time to the beat and in time with each other.
“B.”
Hmm, what was that?
“B!”
Is that Mum?
“BIANCA!”
Derik and I looked to each other, each of us wondering if the other had heard that? as we laid on our stomachs on top of my bed, listening to the old CD play on the second-hand CD player that used to be my Dad’s.
“I think your Mom is calling you.” Derik turned down my music.
Just then Mum blew into my room and stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips.
“Bianca Grace I have been calling out your name for the past ten minutes!” She announced.
“Yes?” I looked up inquiringly.
“Will Derik be staying for dinner tonight?” Mum rolled her eyes and then she looked his way.
“No thanks Aunt Jess, but thanks anyway. My Mom is expecting me home.” He answered in his usual polite manner.
“Thanks for answering that Derik. Now I have to go all the way back downstairs and continue making Bianca’s dinner. Next time B, keep the music to a less deafening level and save my legs the hassle, OK?” Mum glared as she started to leave.
“So? Phase.” I shrugged.
“Excuse me?” She stopped to look back.
“Instead of using the stairs and coming all this way to ask us that one question, just instantaneously phase up here.” I pointed out.
“Oh right! Because I’m already in the custom of instantaneously phasing in and out of my 17 year old daughter’s bedroom at my leisure. No never mind if you were up here with a boyfriend or you were getting undressed for a shower or if…” She prattled on.
“Mum!” I cut her off as I blushed.
“I’ll be sure to pass on your open invitation to your father so he knows that he too can suddenly appear inside your bedroom at his preference.” She added on sarcastically. “We’ll post an ‘open’ sign on your bedroom door, shall we?”
With that she was gone, and Derik was left chuckling in her aftermath.
“Your parents are cool.” He said for his millionth time since I’ve known him.
“No they’re not.” I rebuked for my billionth time.
“Your Mom is much more flexible than my Mom.” He remarked.
“That’s because my Mum was 19 years old when she had me and your Mum was 24 when she had you. I think it’s an age thing.” I shrugged.
“Your family is cool.” Derik said for his zillionth time.
“No they’re not.” I sighed for my gazillionth time.
“You’ve got a pretty cool Mom and Dad, you’ve got a cool Uncle and Grandparents and Great Grandma. Your Dad, Uncle and Grandfather are Werewolves…but they’re cool Werewolves. They’re not interested in hunting humans. And your Dad and the rest of the tribe makes sure Declan doesn’t either even though he’s a different kind of Werewolf.” Derik went on.
“Declan is an asshole – he would frickin’ eat Bambi if he saw it all helpless and alone in the woods.” I said unimpressed.
“He’s not that bad, it’s just around a full moon he gets a bit tetchy.” He defended his older brother.
“Your older brother is ‘tetchy’ even when there isn’t a full moon… which means every night of the frickin’ year.” I retorted.
“It’s only because of this Werewolf business.”
“Declan has been a Werewolf since he was three years old when he was attacked.” I arched an eyebrow back.
“Yeah, but see? The Lokoti Werewolves don’t turn until they’re ten years old or older, when a male relative like a grandfather or a father dies, which triggers their Werewolf DNA. Declan was turned into a Werewolf by the European Werewolf that attacked him and Dad, when our Dad died. Plus he’s a different breed of Werewolf, so he has different symptoms. It’s not his fault if…” Derik went on but I cut him off.
“He’s socially inept.”
“No he’s not…” He tried to argue, but then I shot him a tired look and he stopped himself, “…well alright, so he’s a little on the defensive side and he keeps people at arms length. But that’s only so he won’t accidentally turn anybody else by biting them. He hardly ever hugs Mom because he’s scared of hurting her. How do you think that makes him feel?”
“Oh poor Declan, he’s just misunderstood.” I whined in a funny voice. He tickled me for that! “Derik, cut it out!” I laughed and rolled away from him. But he didn’t cut it out, he kept at it! “Derik no! Stop it!” I squealed, rolling off the bed to get away from him.
He cracked up laughing when he saw me land on the floor.
“Are you OK?” he chuckled, reaching over and pulling me back onto the bed.
“You know I hate being tickled!” I hit him hard on the arm.
“Oow!” Derik guffawed, flinching. “Your right hook has really been beefing up in the last month or so. Are you working out or something?”
“No.” I gave him a look as if he were mad for even suggesting it.
“Hmm.” He squeezed my arms to check the muscles for himself. “I guess not, they still feel pretty flimsy.”
“Hey!” I whacked him a second time.
“Ouch!” he rubbed his sore shoulder where I hit him. “You may look like a pipsqueak, but you hit almost as hard as Declan.”
“I thought you said he treated you and your mother with kid gloves or something.” I gave him a funny look.
“He’s punched me now and then.” Derik smiled ruefully.
“I thought he was worried about accidentally turning you.”
“Well, yeah he is.” He shrugged. “But when he punches me his hand is in a fist so his nails are tucked in. Besides he can only turn someone if he bites them… I overheard your Grandfather and my Mom talk about it.”
“Typical.” I rolled my eyes. “The guy is afraid to hug his own mother but he’ll still male bond with his brother by beating him up now and again.”
“Yeah, that’s about right for us men.” Derik said in humor. Then he looked at his watch before he looked back. “I’d better take off. So, will I see you later on tonight down at Ben’s bonfire?”
I gave a nod before he stood up first and ou
t of politeness so did I, as I walked him to my bedroom door.
Just as I started to open the door to let him out, Derik stopped us. He quickly leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips. At first this took me by surprise and for a couple of seconds I froze… but then I recovered.
“Derik.” I frowned.
“Yeah I know, you don’t know if you’re ready for anything more than friends yet.” He gave a guilty smile. “But I couldn’t resist.”
“Try.”
He sighed wistfully as he left my bedroom and he walked down the small corridor to the stairs. After throwing me one last look, he jogged down my small staircase. I closed my bedroom door behind and leant on it whilst sighing myself.
I’ve known Derik forever…he’s one of the few boys of the tribe that’s my age, although he’s not a Native Alaskan nor is he Lokoti by marriage. Derik, his older brother Declan and his mother Aunt Susan, are the only non-Lokoti invited to live on this land as one of us, who weren’t married into us.
Aunt Susan who was pregnant with Derik at the time, came here to live when Declan was just three years old. On the night of her arrival, her husband died from the European Werewolf attack which had also mauled and ultimately changed Declan. My Gran helped the Lokoti Werewolves fight the foreign Werewolf which was a different and more dangerous breed of Werewolf, a man-eater. Then Gran found out that Susan had been married to Anthony Sabre who was killed by the foreign Werewolf? That was that, Susan and her kids were declared family and were taken in by the tribe. Apparently Anthony’s Great Grand Uncle was Mike Sabre, who was turned into a Circulator by my Great Great Grandmother, Elisha Worthall.
The female lineage of Elisha Worthall all became Circulators, including my grandmother and mother. They used to be part of the Circulate, but when the Circulate evolved to exist as pure energy and light to take their place in the space time continuum? It left behind only my Gran and Mum, who later met the last Calculator Vincent Moher, who was our distant cousin.
I’m meant to be the last Circulator although I haven’t circulated yet, which means that I can’t put myself into phase. In layman’s terms it basically explains that I can’t turn my biological body into one of light and pass through time and space, as you do…! I’m turning 18 years old in a month’s time and all I’ve had are the dreams and visions. Sometimes I wonder if I’m a Circulator, or a Calculator? Vincent who’s our Calculator can’t put himself into phase; but he has a highly attuned mind that is able to calculate temporal causalities. He can ‘see’ how we affect the timeline, or what’s in store for us.
“I wouldn’t worry about it, B.” Mum said for her trillionth time when I voiced my reservations about my ability. “I didn’t phase for my first time until I was 18 years old and pregnant with you.”
“How old were you when you phased for the first time, Gran?” I asked her over the dinner table.
She, Grandfather, Great Grandma, Uncle Julian, Aunt Danika, and my younger cousins would often come to dinner, or I would go to Gran and Grandfather’s house with my parents and see everyone there.
“I phased for my first time when I was 13 years old. My mother phased for her first time when she was 16.” Gran shrugged so casually it was as if we were talking about learning how to do a handstand.
To say that my family was ‘unique’ would have been an understatement. With Mum and Gran being Circulators; their bio-electromagnetic frequencies are in temporal flux so they hardly aged. Both my Mum and my Gran had the appearance of human women in their twenties. But their husbands, Dad and Grandfather didn’t mind this one bit. Since Dad, Grandfather and Uncle Julian were Lokoti Werewolves, they could live until they’re 200 years old. My 56 year old Grandfather looked like a man in his early forties as my 39 year old Dad had the appearance of a man in his mid twenties. As was the custom of our tribe except with my family, the Lokoti Werewolves outlived their human wives.
Whereas we lived on the hill, the Sabre’s (pronounced Sar-bra, if you ever want to see Declan’s Werewolf eyes glow then mispronounce his surname) lived in the central community of our tribal lands where the sports field, general store/ gas station, garage, meeting hall and small library/ school were. The Lokoti community centre was like a village primarily made up of residential homes on small streets, with simplistic gardens and greenhouses for families to grow their own fruit and vegetables. All of the buildings here were made from wood which came courtesy of the surrounding forest.
Our tribal lands were safely tucked away in a small corner of the vast Lokoti National Park in the Alaska Range. We were situated 4.5 hours north of Anchorage and 1.5 hours south of Fairbanks. The small township of Alma is 7 km’s away where before the War, the Lokoti kids went to school and families shopped in the supermarket there. However since the War, Alma like many towns or cities of this planet, either turned into a ghost town or a crime hotspot thanks to looting.
Aunt Susan and Gran helped run our make-shift school which primarily went from when you were 7 – 15 years old. But there were some kids like Derik and I, who continued our schooling by concentrating on different areas. Derik loved studying science and I just loved studying history, so our parents continued to tell us what additional books we could read. They even set us ‘assignments’ which we occasionally had to write up to show if we understood or not, the books which had been recommended.
“He doesn’t just look like his Great Great Grand Uncle, Mike Sabre but he has disposition too… maybe Derik will become a Medicine Man? Mike Sabre was a doctor.” Gran shrugged to Aunt Susan. She and Grandfather were especially close to Aunt Susan and her sons, as they helped the widow raise her young.
My aunt was equally proud of her two boys, although they were as different from each other as chalk and cheese. Derik had brown hair, brown eyes and was academic, sensitive and easy to talk to. He had been my playmate ever since we were babies as our birthdays were only two weeks apart.
However Derik’s older brother Declan, was another story. He stopped going to school when he was 13 years old to become an apprentice mechanic instead. Declan is soon to turn 21 and he’s the rudest, most arrogant boy in the tribe… with dark blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a constant scowl. He bosses Derik around a lot, seeing himself as head of the family. The only people I’ve ever seen him be nice to, are adults such as his parent, my parents and to my grandparents. When Declan changed, the Lokoti Werewolf pack took him under their wing. By taking him hunting every full moon in the National Park, they taught the young European Werewolf to replace his craving for human flesh to animal instead.
When Lokoti Werewolves change they still look humanoid; as their muscles bulk up, their eyes change colour and glow, the nails on their hands and feet turn long and hard, like claws. Their teeth become elongated and sharp as they have lightening fast reflexes and supernatural strength. But when Declan changes, he completely morphs from man to beast. He looks like a huge, hulking, hairless wolf with his height and weight doubling; which means he’s bigger and stronger than the Lokoti Werewolf. His bright green eyes would glow in the dark and from the few times I’d seen them in Werewolf form, they still unnerved me.
The fifteen Lokoti Werewolves are highly esteemed members of the Lokoti tribe. Three of our nine Tribal Elders are Werewolves. The Lokoti Werewolves were seen as our guardians. World War Three occurred three years before I was born and from then, the Lokoti Werewolves have patrolled our tribal lands, keeping us safe from looters during the outside world’s sickness and lawlessness. They even fought foreign Werewolves who still feasted on human flesh, like the European Werewolf who killed Anthony Sabre and turned Declan.
Our tribe has become accustomed to the mish-mash of different breeds of Werewolves, or Circulators and other humans with special gifts. To the humans, it became easy to spot a Werewolf in the crowd due to their towering height and strong build. To the Werewolves, it was easy with their infrared sight, to spot the Circulator or the psychic, because of the auras they produced.
And me…
? I’m nobody special, not really. I’m the daughter, granddaughter and niece of Lokoti Werewolves but that’s it. Oh yeah, I’m supposed to be a Circulator but I can’t circulate. I’m the last Circulator in all of human history, so my family says. My appearance is nothing out of the ordinary either. I’m 160 cm’s tall with typical straight, black Lokoti hair but I have my mother’s and my grandmother’s blue eyes. My skin wasn’t bronzed like the Lokoti natural skin colour either and neither is Mum’s. I think my mother and I get our colouring from my grandmother who is English.
Gran has bright blue eyes, pale skin and wavy, chestnut brown hair. Grandfather and Dad are either half or three-quarter Lokoti with the typical straight black hair. But Grandfather’s grandmother was Caucasian so he has her blue eyes. Nana, who is my Dad’s Mum, is Chinese-American so Dad has her pale skin and dark, sharp eyes. With my blue eyes, they were darker than my family’s for some reason. Maybe because my father’s Lokoti-Asian dark brown were mixed in?
“B!” I heard Mum call out.
“Yeah?”
“Dinner’s ready!”
I opened my bedroom door and skipped downstairs to take my place at the table. I found Dad was home from his meeting with the Tribal Elders and the pack and he helped Mum serve dinner. They shared the jobs around the house like cooking and cleaning in equal measure, which included raising their beloved only child.
“How are you B?” He smiled.
“Good thanks Dad. What’s for dinner?” I watched my parents serve up in the kitchen.
“Roast Duck and vegetables.” He answered. “We’ve got plenty of food here, it looks like we have enough leftovers for the next two nights.”
“I was expecting Derik would be staying for dinner.” Mum said.
“That boy’s got the appetite of a Werewolf alright, although he’s human.” He let out a laugh.
Dad carried our plates over to the table and placed mine in front of me before taking his seat. Mum followed after him and she poured us all a glass of milk each.
